by Alana Melos
Septimus made some sort of sound which was supposed to be comforting, but only made me loathe the whole situation more. He did give my hand a squeeze and rub my back. “Hey, it’s OK,” he said. I kept shaking my head back and forth. I had nothing in me to stop this. Every time I thought that, the sobs came out harder, great big waves of misery and confusion. After a minute, Septimus put his arm around me, and I leaned into him, letting him hold me. It was comforting to feel someone else in that moment, to feel something else other than the endless tide of anguish which swept through me like a hurricane, leaving my broken mind in a state of destruction.
When the sobs eased, I took a big breath and let it out slowly. Exhaustion took the place of misery. Wrung out and empty, a strange catharsis came over me. I’d never experienced anything like it before. Perhaps when I was a young child, but I doubted it. I was empty, but not in the way I wanted to be. The emotions lurked under the surface, waiting to reemerge at the most inopportune time. Instead of them rolling over me willy-nilly, they lurked, and the emptiness wasn’t really empty… it was a strange sort of lethargy, or resignation.
“Feel better?” he asked, still rubbing my back in a comforting way.
I thought about pushing away from him, but I didn’t have the energy in me. “Actually… yeah,” I said. It had been a release of sorts, and while all the emotions in my head stalked me, waiting for their chance to trip me up, they were subdued for now. “Kind of wrung out.”
“Having a good cry will do that,” he said as he stopping the motions on my back, though he didn’t retract his arm.
“I don’t have cries,” I replied as I wiped my face clean with the sleeve of my jacket.
“I hate to tell you this, but you just did.” His soft chuckle caused me to give him a sharp look. He wasn’t looking at me, but at the clock on the wall, smiling to himself. I didn’t think he was insulting me by laughing, so I let it slide. It was a lot harder to tell without my ‘pathy and with that reminder, I sighed.
“Well, I’m not normal,” I said as I pulled away from him and scooted down the couch to separate us. “I’m one of the elite few who don’t have to deal with that crap.”
Septimus looked at me, raising a brow. “You keep saying that, but that’s not what I’m seeing.”
“Something’s wrong,” I told him, again. “Wrong with me. I don’t know exactly what or when it started, but I’ve got to fix it.”
“A good therapist could probably help,” he suggested.
I made a sound of disgust. “No way.”
He spread his hands out and shrugged. “I don’t know what else to tell you then,” he said. “I can listen and be a friend, but that’s about it.”
“Do you want to fuck?” I asked
“What?” Shock rolled over his face. “No! Of course not!”
“Now I’m not good enough for you?” I asked as anger began to boil under the surface.
“No, of course you are,” he said. A myriad of emotions ran across his face, too many for me to read save for surprise. “It wouldn’t be right.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re vulnerable, and I’m not going to take advantage of you,” he said, the expression on his face settling into something which looked like concern. Maybe it was offense.
“That didn’t stop you the last time,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.
“You were angry, you weren’t crying,” he said in rebuttal. “There’s a difference.”
“I don’t see it.” I huffed and glanced towards the window.
“You don’t even seem remotely interested in sex right now anyway,” Septimus said. “Why are you even asking?”
“Maybe I don’t want to be alone for the rest of the night,” I replied, the words coming out stiff and unwelcome. I had promised to be honest, and without your word, you were nothing.
“You could just stay the night, you know,” he said, incredulity staining his voice. “You don’t have to do anything for it. I don’t think you should be alone either.” The couch bounced a little. When I looked back at him, he’d gotten up and moved towards the hallway. “I’ll take the couch,” he said. “Just let me get out some bedding.”
I stood up and approached him. “No. I don’t want… being alone in a strange room isn’t exactly being with someone. If you’re not going to sleep with me in the same bed, what’s the point?”
He looked over at me, his cheeks a little flushed. “I… it’s not really proper, you know? Or, uh, gentlemanly.”
Heaving a sigh and giving him my best scornful look, I said, “We’ve already fucked. I hardly think you’re going to sully my honor by sleeping next to me.”
Tim laughed weakly at that, and forewent his rummaging for bedding. “Put that way….” He let the sentence trail off and closed the closet door, then turned to face me. “What I said before… you are safe here. I won’t let anything happen to you, nor will I take advantage.”
I cocked my head to the side, then smiled at him. “If you did, I’d just decapitate you with a thought.” The soft look he had in his eyes wiped clean at that comment and I nodded in satisfaction. “I think you think I’m some lost soul. I’ll admit… it’s been a rough few days and my head’s all fucked up, but I’m not lost. For the most part, I’m exactly where I want to be, doing exactly what I want to do.”
“I don’t believe that,” he said, brushing a tendril of my long blond hair away from my cheek. “You could be so much more. You don’t see it, but I do.”
Resisting the temptation to lean into the gentle touch, I took a deep breath and said in a steady voice, “This is my truth, Tim: I like killing. I enjoy being in control. I want to be hard, ruthless, and powerful. I like to fuck, but I’m not interested in dating. I’ll cut down anyone who gets in my way of what I want, with no regrets.”
“That’s not all there is to you,” he insisted. “You have the potential to be a lot more than what you are, to help a lot of people.”
“But I don’t want to,” I said, suddenly feeling very tired. “Why aren’t you listening to me? I’m not using big words.”
“I want to see the best in people,” he replied, touching my cheek again.
“I think our definitions of ‘the best’ are different,” I said, but I didn’t pull away from his touch. “And what you think you see… it’s not here.”
With a sigh, he dropped his hand. His grey eyes searched my blue ones. “Do you know why you came here, with me, and talked?”
I shook my head, surprised at the sudden change in direction. “I don’t see what--”
“Because you trust me,” he continued, talking right over me. “And you don’t trust the people you know. You know I won’t do anything with whatever you say, that I won’t hold it against you.”
I canted my head to the side while I thought it over. He did have a point. I’d seen his threads, the basic make up of his personality and he was honest, which I liked. Most of the people I worked with weren’t the kind you’d share your inner thoughts with. Rebekah crossed my mind briefly, but even though I considered her a friend, my first real one, I still didn’t know her that well or for that long.
“Maybe,” I said, giving him that with reluctance. “But you’re still trying to use me, just like everyone else.” When he looked offended, I gave him a tired smile with a sigh. “It’s the nature of the beast, Tim. Everybody wants some, as Van Halen says.”
“I just want to see--” he started, and I put a finger on his lips to shush him.
“No more of what you want,” I told him firmly. “I want to sleep if we’re not going to fuck. Will you sleep with me or not?”
“Yeah,” he said after I took my finger away. “This way.”
He led me into his bedroom, which did have a nice queen sized bed dominating the room. The rest of it looked really lived in with clothes on the floor and spare change and other nonsense spread across the top of a chest of drawers. The curtains were open, and the view showed us a decent view
of the street and the building across the way. I took off my trench and hung it up behind the door, then stripped down. He had started to undress, but stopped when he saw I’d gone down to the buff.
“What?” I asked.
“That’s a little… distracting,” he said, then went and rummaged in his small closet. He pulled out an old jersey of some kind and tossed it to me. “Can you at least put that on to sleep in?”
I preened at the implied compliment and took my time to slip the shirt over my head. He kept glancing over as he undressed. Each time his face grew redder and redder, at least until I was clothed. The jersey was from the New York Giants, and it just barely made me decent. If I raised my arms, that decency disappeared.
He pulled out a pair of simple black pajama bottoms and put those on, but kept his exquisitely chiseled chest bare. I climbed into bed and waited for him to join me. When he did, I flicked the light off with my teke and wasted no time putting him where I wanted him so I could curl up next to him and draw comfort from his warmth. I wasn’t a big cuddler. I never had been. With the loss I’d suffered tonight, I needed something else to draw on, to maintain the feeling that this was real, that I was real, that I wasn’t dreaming all the time now. Tim put an arm around me and let his fingers play over my shoulder and arm as I laid my head on his chest. The simple actions made things feel more solid, but the idea that everything was an illusion wouldn’t go away. Now that I had thought about it, the concept swallowed me whole.
Maybe it would be better in the morning. Maybe my ‘pathy would heal. Maybe I could find someone to fix it, or ask Ger if he could try. Maybe there was a ritual or something magical. Maybe, maybe, maybe. As I settled in and lay there thinking about the day, I realized I’d been more or less in shock since the battle for Rory’s mind. As Septimus continued to stroke my arm in a comforting way and my eyes closed, I felt lost in a fantasy, a hallucination. Yet it was terribly real. I shifted in Septimus’ arms. He tensed, lifting his arm briefly before draping it around me again as soon as I stopped moving.
Letting my hand graze over his exquisite chest, I tried to read him. Nothing big, just his emotions. Pressure built behind my eye, pounding at my temples until I let it go. I had nothing to see the real him, nothing to judge him by save his actions. I pressed one of my legs against the side of his, rubbing it absently and feeling the flesh beneath the cloth. My hand wandered lower and I opened my eyes to look over what I could see of his body in the street lights. If I couldn’t see the real him, I distracted myself by examining the packaging. Every muscle stood defined, even though he was relaxed. I’m sure there was fat on him, but nothing which cushioned the hard corners of his hips and shoulders. His chest was smooth, which was not something I thought about much on a guy, but here, it felt nice. When he breathed, I felt the tension in his chest rise, then relax, and felt the play of the muscles underneath my fingers.
His hand kept stroking my arm in a soothing manner. First down with the back of his fingernails, then up, lightly scratching the skin. My hand wandered lower, feeling his rib cage clearly underneath the layer of muscle and skin, then abdomen. Never had there been a more perfect body. Michael’s was impressive, but he still bore some older scars from his pre-vampire days. The vampire’s host also was much bigger. I think he worked out to keep himself big and bulky. It was good for intimidation, and I wondered briefly if he’d served jail time before. Tim, on the other hand, was lean under my touch, lean and deadly, more like Gerard. Yet, Gerard wasn’t perfect either. He still had some layers of fat which didn’t detract, but softened his body a touch.
“Caprice?” Septimus asked, his voice thick. “What are you doing?”
“Just examining you,” I replied, shifting again and throwing one of my legs over both of his. Even his legs were well defined, and I reached down further to feel a thigh. My hand grazed over his excitement at my hand’s wandering, and I smirked to myself. “Well, well, well….”
He shifted his hips, angling his hard cock away from me. “You keep touching me,” he said, his voice rough. “It’s a natural reaction to a knock-out putting her hands all over me.”
“So what are we going to do about this?” I asked him, keeping my voice low and husky. My fingertips grazed the inside of his hip bone, which elicited a shiver from him.
“I told you, that’s not what I want,” he said. With his free hand, he reached down and grasped mine to stop its wanderings.
“You don’t want to take advantage of me?” I asked. He nodded. “But I want to have sex and you want to have sex… and unless there’s anything else you’re hiding from me, I don’t see what the problem is?” I turned my head as I spoke and kissed his neck.
“Ah…” he said, sucking in his breath. “You were vulnerable,” he managed. “Are vulnerable. I’m not going to take advantage.”
“Jeez, Tim, are you always this passive?” I asked, my tone turning snide.
“Being passive and being respectful are two different things,” he said, looking at me with a frown. “If you’re not going to behave, I’m going to the couch.”
From the frown and the intensity of his look, I knew he wasn’t going to give in. Irritated, I ripped my hand from underneath his. “Oh, alright,” I snapped, sounding sulky even to myself. “I’ll behave.”
“Another time,” he promised, and kissed the side of my head. That gesture made me want to rip his arms off, but I took a deep breath and made myself settle. Once he decided I wasn’t going to do anything more, the tension eased out of him. The wind continued to howl for a while, then settled down as we did. Thoughts of being rejected danced in my mind, though I tried to reason with myself that it wasn’t rejection… he was just being a nice guy. I’d met so few of them, he seemed like a different species.
Much as I hated to admit it, the perceived rejection kept my mind off of my other troubles until I sank into an uneasy sleep.
Chapter Ten
The song ‘Bloodletting’ erupted from somewhere in the room, which meant Adira was calling me. Tim rolled over and covered his ear with a hand, but the mellow song started off low in volume and it didn’t wake him up. Peeling an eye open, I grabbed my trench with my teke and floated it over to me so I could search the pockets. When I grabbed the phone, I hit ignore and put it on the night stand. If it was important, she’d leave a message.
About a half a minute later, my phone played the same song and I groaned. This time, I answered. “I was sleeping,” I growled, but low, so I wouldn’t wake my companion up.
“It’s Rory,” she gasped, and I heard something crunch in the background, coupled with a low rumble. “You have to get here, now.”
“No, I don’t,” I said. “I’m taking a little me time. Just deal with it yourself. Or call Ger.” A match struck somewhere inside my brain, and anger bloomed. Of course, it was never very far away from me.
“It’s the trees,” she said, and the rumbling in the background grew, then quieted down. “I don’t know--”
“I said no!” I snapped and half sat up to whip the phone against the wall. Hadn’t I given enough to them? Couldn’t I have just one day to myself to do nothing? To just relax and try to sort all of this shit out that had been dumped on me? Hadn’t I done enough?
The phone hit the wall with a very satisfying crack, and the light went out. It was a new phone. I’d broken the old one in a fight somewhere, but right now, I couldn’t have cared less. I had money. I’d buy another. What I needed was some down time.
At the sound of the crack, Septimus jerked away, half sitting up in the shadowed room. “What time is it?”
“Time to go back to sleep,” I said, moving closer to him to spoon him from behind.
“That’s a plan,” he murmured and took my hand to bring my arm over his side so that I held him.
Settling in, I closed my eyes. Despite the small rush of adrenalin which had come with the sudden flurry of anger, my body was tired enough that I began to drop off again almost immediately. Warm and comfor
table, I did my best to breathe in and out, concentrating on that simple action to keep other thoughts at bay. That haze between waking and sleeping came upon me. I laid on the cusp of dozing off when there was a loud crash. This time, both of us sat up in bed. I was more alert than Tim, but he came around in a hurry and had hit the floor before he even looked around.
A window broke in his living room. I floated my sword over to me and ripped it free from the sheath before I slid out of bed. Some sort of weird, rubbery sound came from behind the door. I padded quietly to the other side, thinking it could be some kind of break in. Tim moved in front of the door and held up his hand with three fingers up… then two… then one….
When he opened the door, I slipped into the living room to grant him some cover from our unknown assailants. Before, I would have just scanned the room. Now, everything was the same shade of grey to me. The street lights shone through the window here as well, though filtered through a gauzy curtain, which blew in gentle waves from the breeze coming through the break. I didn’t see a person, but I did spy movement. Something undulated in the darkness, and that strange sound continued, growing louder and softer in turns.
When Septimus flipped on the light, both of us gasped at the sight before us. One of his plants had shattered the pot it was in as well as the window. The mass of green and brown tentacles pulsed as it grew, throbbing with vitality. For a moment, I thought I still lay asleep and dreamed it all, but the plant grew rapidly. When the lights flicked on, it had been the size of a medium dog. In the few seconds it took to process the sight before us, it had grown to overcome the table, cracking it with the weight of a small person.
I moved forward and slashed. The mass of plant matter didn’t react to me until my blade hit its flesh. The tentacles lashed out my direction blindly, forcing me back as I put up a telekinetic shield to make them keep their distance. It didn’t follow me. Septimus edged closer, the movement causing the tentacles to swivel his direction to track his progress.
